A wisp of air escapes from your lips, enough to make me close my eyes, revealing the Milky Way. Your body presses up against mine, right arm across my chest, right leg curled across my right leg, you inhale. I think about the time when I fell in love with you, sitting across from me at a generic coffee shop, around the time the generic nine to fivers go to work. The sun lit up your face, eyes sparkling gemstone blue, the sound of the milk steamer muted for the moment’s eternity, I failed to take a few breaths. When my body remembered to breath, every molecule of oxygen diffusing across my alveolar membranes was felt to my soul. I was high off you. My entire supply of dopamine released, flooding the deep space, the Mariana trenches with euphoria. Two supergiant O-type stars appear, your eyes, burning deep holes through the fabric of space-time and I enter a string of dimensions interwoven into a rubix shape of infinite color, shape, and size.

My eyes are closed, dust floats through my space, a bedroom of 6 walls and a windows that meets the eye of sunrise. There is no particular smell that strikes me, only sounds of the gas heater humming and a few birds chirping to remind me light is creeping through my space. I am comfortably warm under my down comforter, absolute white, plump, and soft – a goose turned inside out and stripped of everthing under it’s feathers. My heart beats, I breathe, relaxed my body is a physical marriage with the steel bed frame, box spring, mattress, memory foam, sheets, comforter — connected to the space containing me, my bedroom. As with every morning, my boxer briefs are tight from an erection, hard but soft, pulsating as I grip it for an innocent moment. I do not need to open my eyes to see today, predicting now to the end of the night, hour to hour at best until I am back here, in my bedroom, my space but not the same space as this morning with my eyes closed, thinking about today, moment by moment at best.

Stolen goods working for an imagination, stick stuck on hyperdrive. Pop lock – hot stop, burn through fabric, no justice for maverick. A cold air, strokes cold hairs, no feedback my friend, its a cold stare. Stroking the line(s), graphite gone, rubbing the pink tip, warmth from friction no matter the photoshot. It is a cold road, a cold hole, can you remember the times your mom stared at your empty soul? A glass full, no matter what matter, upside down, fallen soldier(s) bleeding bugs from out to in. A cold world my lonely friends, seperated by distance, trapped by binary code. Wildflowers, flourescent rainbow kaleidoscope colors escape from black holes, thoughts crashing to never give up.

Hey hey hey, baby girl – looking at you looking at me, exchanging bits on our infrared string. It can’t be cut, no it will never be cut, no God, no demon, no man can. Our system, our matrix, our dimension, is one; my angel, sweet angel, your guardian, watching you watching me, exchanging bits on our infrared string. What do you process when I place my lips upon your cheek? Fingertips feel the way you breath – fragility, you or I at this moment of peace? Exchanging bits on our infrared string.